


Hold me, I'm yours

by itsallAvengers



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: And Steve Gets.... So many hugs, Avengers Family, But also Meddling Bastards, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, The Avengers Are Good Bros, because Tony is fucking whipped lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 15:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16726116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsallAvengers/pseuds/itsallAvengers
Summary: Steve is a little touch starved, and Tony is more than happy to satiate him in any way that he can- much to the despair of the rest of the Avengers, who would just like to eat their cereal without having to watch mom and dad make out on the tabletop, thank you very much.(7k of pure, ridiculous fluff)





	Hold me, I'm yours

**Author's Note:**

> For sassygenius on instagram, who asked for some touch-starved!Steve with an exasperated team thrown in there! Hope this is what you were looking for!

Things hadn’t always been easy between Steve and Tony.

At the start, it was… difficult, to say the least. The two men had rarely seen eye-to-eye over pretty much anything, and although they’d worked well as a team on the field, when they were off it, things went very differently. Thinking back, Tony wasn’t sure what exactly it was they’d even argued about. Stupid stuff. Training times and leaving the milk out. Sometimes bigger stuff, like decisions made on the field that Steve hadn’t liked (but were still necessary, Tony would like to add). Whatever it was, though, it had meant that for the first few months of the Avengers living in New York together, Tony and Steve’s relationship had definitely left a lot to be desired. Sure, they’d worked like clockwork in training and during all of the real, serious shit- but usually as soon as they stepped out of the battlefield mindset, it had been back to snapping at one another about this, that or the other.

What a waste of a few months, Tony thought wistfully. They could have been having awesome sex instead of arguing, but they’d chosen to waste precious time and emotions on yelling rather than fucking. Tony was ashamed of that more than anything.

“I just don’t know what his problem is,” Tony remembers whining to Rhodey one night as they’d sat together on the couch, watching Steve slam around in the kitchen and angrily make himself a cup of tea to try and distract himself from the shouting match he’d just had with Tony, “it’s like he _wants_ to hate me.”

Rhodey had looked at him like he was stupid. “Oh, because you don’t give just as good as you get, huh? You don’t exactly make it easy for the man, Tones.”

Which, in hindsight, Tony figured was probably true. But at the time, he really hadn’t seen it that way. “Well _he_ doesn’t make it easy either,” he’d responded grumpily, knowing it was weak even as the words had come out. And by the way Rhodey had looked at him, it seemed he’d known it too.

But yeah. Tony was stubborn, and so was Steve, and so it had meant that for a while they’d been at odds purely for the sake of appearances. Because it was easier than backing down; because there was history there with both of them, and because as long as Tony could keep his distance from Steve then it also meant that he’d never have to properly acknowledge the stupid crush that he’d acquired at age thirteen and had never been able to get rid of, even when Steve had turned to be rather different to everything Tony had always daydreamed about.

Mostly, he’d been better. And that had probably been even worse than if he’d lived up to the expectations that Tony had held him to.

Because Steve was so _imperfect_ in real life. It turned out he was clumsy, he didn’t sleep when he needed to, and he had a weird talent of making everything awkward without even meaning to. He was messy, too- his room was a damn trash heap, and he always left goddamn cereal all over the counter without sweeping it up. He wasn’t the Captain America that Tony had always been told about. He was way, way more human than that.

For whatever reason, that little fact had just hurt Tony a little more- thinking about how Steve was just as flawed as everyone else, and Howard had still favoured him over Tony. Over anyone.

Whatever. It had led to bad feeling all around, basically. And Tony… Tony was a mess, okay, he couldn’t apologize or accept apologies for shit- but Steve was just as bad, dammit. He’d say sorry for the things he said, but never acted as if he was ever wrong about it. About decisions he made on the field, about the fucking cereal. He was goddamn _arrogant_ and _self-righteous_ and a _fucking dick_ , and-

And lonely.

That was primarily what had started the whole thing. Because Tony wasn't kind- he wasn’t selfless or good, he didn’t help little old ladies cross the street or pack their bags like Steve did- but he was still observant. He’d still seen the way Steve would sit in the corner of the room when everyone was talking and eat his stupid messy cereal alone, a glassy look in his eyes. Tony had seen the way he’d make tea for himself at 3am when he couldn’t sleep, and then just stare at the cupboards in silence until he’d finished. Steve didn’t call anyone on those nights. He didn’t chat, or occupy himself, and when he had an issue he sorted it himself. Because Steve didn’t have a support system. Steve just had Steve.

So Tony had made him his stupid tea one night. Just because he was awake too, and he’d seen Steve do it enough to know the method and he was fucking tired of watching Steve just be so _sad_ all the time in his fucking tower. It was rude and it made Tony feel something weird and uncomfortable under his chest, and he didn’t want any more heart problems than he already had, thank you very much, so yeah, he’d made the stupid tea.

And… well, then it had started.

Their _Thing_. Thing with a capital ‘T’. Because for such a long time, Tony hadn’t been able to put a name on it. Couldn’t really pin it down, and was way too scared to think about it properly. But the simple cup of tea and the following conversation had broken the ice, and after that, the proverbial floods had started to rush all in. Tony started to talk to him- properly talk to him. Steve started to smile. They started to joke and laugh, like friends. And then friends had become best friends faster than Tony could even have imagined, and then best friends had become…. Well. Their _Thing_. Lingering touches and longing glances with eyes that were quickly averted when the other looked in their direction. Movie nights spent too close to one another to be just friends and shared conversations that Tony was pretty sure he’d never told anyone before, not even Rhodey. They’d left it as it was for a while; both of them too scared to do anything with it, and instead just leaving it sort of… unattended.

Not forever, though. It had all come to a head eventually, during one of their arguments.

Steve had been in danger. Serious danger that could have ended his life. And so Tony had made the executive decision to circumvent that problem, by simply putting himself in front of the stupid death ray thing that had threatened Steve’s life. It had seemed like a simple decision at the time.

Apparently not to Steve, though.

Once Tony had come out of the ICU, Steve just… flipped. Gone completely nuts, shouting and yelling, asking Tony how he could’ve been so stupid. Tony would never forget what Steve had told him that night.

 _“You think you can just jump in front of me at every sign of danger, Tony, but you_ can’t _. It’s not your fucking job and I’m just not fucking worth your life!”_

Those words still scared Tony, even now. The fact that Steve just didn’t believe his life was worth the same as Tony’s. That he’d willingly die so that Tony didn’t have to. _Fuck_ , that was supposed to be _Tony’s_ job, dammit. Steve wasn’t ever allowed to steal his lines like that.

And so to show him just how stupid he was, Tony had kissed him.

Then said that he loved him.

Then… given him a shove. Because Steve didn’t ever get to say stupid shit like that and get away with it.

“If you think I’d ever, _ever_ let you get hurt when I could stop it, then you’re a fucking idiot,” Tony had responded with a growl, holding onto Steve’s collar with a vicelike grip before kissing him again. Steve, thankfully, had kissed back, and although he had refused to have sex when Tony still had four broken ribs and a healing leg, it had still been, surprisingly, one of the best nights of Tony’s life.

And after that? Well-

 

 

 

 

_

 

 

 

 

“Can you guys like, maybe cut it out?”

From his spot on Steve’s lap, Tony threw his middle finger up at Clint and then continued kissing his boyfriend. “My tower, my rules,”  he informed the other man primly, “usually you aren’t even up before 2pm anyway. Not our fault you switched up routine.”

Against his mouth, Steve smiled and then looked around Tony’s shoulder, giving Clint an earnest wave. “Good morning.”

“No. It’s not a good morning. Mom and dad are canoodling at the breakfast table.”

With a sigh, Tony turned around, back pressing into Steve’s chest as he folded his arms. “I better be the dad, or I swear you’re on chores for the next month.”

Steve laughed into the crook of his neck and kissed him absent-mindedly. They both listened to Clint mutter irritably as he made his toast, talking some crap about PDA and common decency, but Tony was still riding out the afterglow of their round of morning sex and honestly, that made it way too hard to care about anything Barton said.

As Steve read the paper over Tony’s shoulder, he reached out and stretched his fingers across the table. Tony met him in the middle as usual, then smiled softly to himself as Steve started to distractedly caress his hand with the tips of his fingers, drawing circles into the back of his palm and stroking his thumb over a little ridge of scar-tissue on his wrist.  He caught Clint’s eye as the man passed across the room and tried to tamp down on the undoubtedly soft look on his face before it was seen, but it was too late, and Clint had already started to mime throwing up. Charming.

“Just because you don’t know what it’s like to be in a grown-up relationship doesn’t mean you should judge those who do,” Tony informed him primly as he walked off in the direction of the living room, a box of cereal in hand.

Clint turned and threw a cheerio at him in response. It hit Tony square between the eyes, and as it bounced off onto the table Steve clocked the piece of cereal and then popped it straight into his mouth before turning back to his morning paper. The routine of his patterns against Tony’s hand changed, becoming small taps as opposed to circular movements, and as Tony leaned back into Steve’s shoulder, he felt the man let out a small sigh of contentment.

That was one thing he couldn’t say he’d ever expected. Of course, he’d known going in that Steve wasn’t the sort of man who would have to be pushed into showing affection, but he’d kind of expected at least a _little_ bit of awkwardness at first. Maybe some blushing and hesitation- possibly an awkward hug as they worked one another’s angles out properly. But Tony had been very pleasantly surprised to find out that his expectations were completely wrong. Steve was, actually, the total opposite.

Because he _loved_ it.

Tony had clocked that almost immediately- Steve was happy if he was just touching Tony in some way, even when it wasn’t sexual. He held hands and kissed cheeks in greeting, he hugged with his whole body and he’d slip his fingers into Tony’s back pocket when they walked through the street. He didn’t care, and it seemed to just make him so damn happy that Tony had found himself enjoying it as much as Steve did. Before, public displays of affection had been mostly for show, for the fun of it- but with Steve, it became different. It became _meaningful_.

So yeah, they were ridiculous and sappy and stupid around each other, and the whole team were already sick of their shit, but for the first time in what felt like forever, Tony just didn’t care. If it made Steve happy, then Tony was going to indulge him until the end of fucking time.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?”

Tony blinked, realizing that he’d been staring at their entwined hands with what was probably a spaced-out look on his face. He turned to Steve and smiled with a shake of his head, their noses brushing minutely with the proximity. “A variety of many exciting, complicated things that could possibly change the universe as we know it.”

A blond eyebrow quirked upward. “God, not before I’ve had my breakfast, please.”

Tony laughed, looking over to the bacon that was out just waiting to be made. “Right. Message received. Make the super-soldier his breakfast before I start baffling him with my fountains of wisdom.” He slid off Steve’s lap and then straightened his back, but Steve’s fingers curled around his waist before he made it to the counter.

“Hold up,” Steve said, spinning his hips back around. Tony looked at him enquiringly, but Steve just smiled and then tugged him down, pressing their lips together gently. When they broke away, Steve’s eyes were like diamonds. “Good morning,” he murmured.

Tony held back on his urge to laugh. “I thought we established the good mornings whilst I was sucking your dick, but okay.”

Steve let him go with a huff and a roll of his eyes, turning back to the morning paper. “Not the same,” he responded simply, and Tony wasn’t sure what it meant, really, but it made him feel good anyway.

“I can hear your happiness from the living room!” Clint called out a second later, ruining their moment in a way that only Clint ever could, “and I wish you’d cut it out!”

Tony made a mental note to punch him for that later. Possibly with a gauntlet on.

For now, though, he was spending his morning with Steve.

 

 

 

 

_

 

 

 

 

 

God, he was tired.

It’d been what… three days? Maybe six, since he’d last slept in a proper bed. Or slept at all, if he was being honest. If Steve had been home, he knew that would never have happened- but Steve _wasn’t_ here, Steve was so selfishly _out_ in _Argentina_ , saving goats or helping old ladies out of trees or- or whatever it was that he did.

Ugh. The words were just blurry squiggles. His work rate was probably not too great at this point. He should probably think about having a nap, maybe. Or some food that wasn’t popcorn. And maybe some water while he was at it. His throat kinda hurt.

Damn Steve, forcing his body into good habits. This never would have happened six months ago when they weren’t together.

Tony groaned, standing up groggily from his desk and then making his way over to the elevator on the other side of the room. The journey up was quick- he might have had a small snooze standing up, just for thirty seconds or so- and once he was out in the open space, he blinked in surprise. It already smelled like coffee, which was great. Totally better than water anyway. He followed his nose toward the kitchen and then fumbled for a cup, thinking about the stupid calculation that had been stumping him for hours now. If he could just work that out, then the whole solution could change, and he’d save so much energy that was being wasted at the-

“Shit, gross,” Tony said on autopilot, scowling as soon as the warm coffee touched his tongue. _Decaf_. That was decaf coffee. How disgusting.

He paused and frowned. Wait. There was only one person who ever voluntarily drank that foul solution, and Tony knew, because he had to make the sacrifice of going in and kissing that mouth straight after.

“Steve,” he mumbled, coffee forgotten immediately. Steve was home.

_Awesome._

Turning around, he frowned at the empty room and then tried to remember how to get to the living room from where he was stood. Pretty simple, really; he mentally chastised himself for having to actually take any amount of seconds to think about it at all. He really hated when his brain got all ridiculous and tired. He just wanted to _work_. He didn’t need any fucking sleep.

But maybe his boyfriend did, he thought as he walked into the living room and saw Steve, head resting on the couch cushions, clearly having just gotten back. Natasha was next to him, flicking through the TV absently, but her attention wasn’t really focused on it. They both looked just as tired as Tony felt.

They spoke to each other in low tones that Tony didn’t bother to tune into as he drew closer. All he really cared about was that nice warm space underneath Steve’s arm, and the welcoming shoulder where he could rest his head. Home sweet home, at last.

“Anyway, like I was saying- I know that we’ve probably gone through the drill enough times, and I know you’re gonna yell at me if I say that we need another- oh,” Steve broke off in surprise, looking away from Natasha as Tony stumbled around to the front of the couch and then fell directly into Steve’s lap, curling up into the warm expense of chest there. “Hey, sweetheart. What are you doing up? It’s 3 in the morning.”

Oh, was it really? Tony hadn’t known it was so late. Steve must be tired too. He made a soft grumbling noise and then pawed clumsily against Steve’s chest with a hand, shuffling into a closer position. God, he was comfy. Steve smelled like SHIELD showers and soap; such a boring smell and yet still so homely. Tony wanted to bury himself in it.

Steve’s laugh vibrated through his chest, and Tony felt strong arms curl around his back, stroking across the juts of his curved spine. “Tired, are we?” He asked in amusement, nose brushing across Tony’s temple before he kissed his cheek softly.

Tony grunted again. Words were too hard.

On the other side of the couch, he heard a dramatic sigh, and although he didn’t bother turning his head he knew that Natasha’s eyes were probably rolling. “God, do you two ever stop?” She asked, and it sounded rude, but he could hear the fondness that seeped into her voice, “it’s like watching a terrible romcom.”

Tony cracked open an eye, leaning his cheek against Steve’s sternum and then glaring at her. “Shithead,” he told her simply, and then turned his face back into Steve’s neck once more.

Steve laughed again, lovely and rumbly and low, and his hands worked up and down Tony’s back in such a familiar way. They’d been dating for almost half a year by that point, and Steve was already as much of a home to him as his tower was. Whenever Steve left, there was a part of him that just couldn’t properly settle until he came back. Like a part of him was just missing,

“I think it’s time we called it a night,” Steve declared after a second, “Nat, I know you won’t listen, but you should probably sleep too.”

“Well _I’m_ not sharing the bed with her,” Tony mumbled.

“Ha Ha,” Natasha threw a pillow at him, “I wouldn’t touch your bed with a ten foot pole. If you mack on eachother like teenagers _here_ , God only knows what things you get up to in there.”

In a swift motion, Steve bundled Tony into his arms like he weighed nothing more than a bag of flour and then stood. Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and allowed himself the pleasure of weightlessness. It felt so good to be off his feet- even if he had only been on them for a grand total of about three minutes in the past 24 hours. He sighed happily and gave Steve’s neck a pleased little peck, hearing Nat’s grumpy mutterings as she too stood from the couch and switched off the TV.

“Right,” Steve murmured, lips brushing Tony’s temple, “let’s get you to bed, huh?”

They said their goodnights to Nat as she made her way up to her own quarters, and then Tony allowed himself to drift easily whilst Steve carried him up into their own section of the tower. He next opened his eyes when his head hit the pillows, and looked up at Steve’s face, tired but happy.

“Missed you,” he breathed in exhaustion, fingers ghosting across Steve’s face.

The other man said something back, but Tony didn’t really hear it as he drifted easily into a doze, now content with the knowledge that Steve was safe and back home with him. The last thing he felt was a soft press of perfect lips against the centre of his palm, before sleep took hold and pulled him under.

 

 

 

 

_

 

 

 

 

“Dinner tonight? I was thinking of The Strada, maybe- it’s been a while since we had Moroccan.”

“Hmm, I was actually hoping we could get Italian. Got a craving.”

“We had Italian last week.”

“Yeah, and now we can have it again.”

“Right,” Steve slid his legs off Tony’s lap where they were rested and then shuffled his chair forward until he came almost nose to nose with Tony, arms trapping him in against the desk, “would you like me to persuade you then?”

Just as Tony was about to grin and agree, however, he watched as a pencil flew across the room and then hit Steve’s shoulder. They both turned and looked at Bruce, who was glaring at them from over the lens of his microscope. He didn’t look particularly amused.

“I am currently handling some of the world’s deadliest bacterium,” he waved a hand over to the Petri dishes to the left of him, “I would really rather you didn’t start ‘persuading him’ right in front of me, Cap.”

When Tony had first met Steve, he’d have expected the man to turn firetruck red at being called to attention like that. But now Tony knew better- knew that Steve spared very little fucks about curbing his affections for Tony in public, which was… well, it was quite a nice feeling, if Tony was being honest. A good little ego-boost. He’d become so used to the constant contact and fondness Steve showed in fact, that it was almost weird to walk around town and not have an arm over his shoulder or a hand in his own, or to sit on the couch and not be curled into the warmth of Steve’s side, purring as the man stroked his fingers through his hair. That’s just who Steve was.

Much to the team’s constant exasperation, it seemed.

“Sorry,” Steve said with a cheeky smile, slipping out of Tony’s grasp and then putting his hands up, “no feeling Tony up until you’ve finished handling the Asgardian virus, got it.”

Bruce just huffed and shook his head. “I mean, preferably no feeling up Tony in my lab full-stop.”

Hah. Funny. Like Steve was ever going to follow that rule. “Sure, Bruce. Whatever you say.”

Bruce shot one last look up at them, eyeing Steve with a face that told them both he knew exactly how hard Steve was bullshitting- but in the end he simply sighed, waving a hand. “I give up. It’s been a whole fucking year- shouldn’t the honeymoon phase be over by now?”

Steve looked over to Tony, a twinkle in his eye. “Oh, don’t you just wish.”

 

 

 

 

_

 

 

 

 

The two of them lay on the couch, taking up the entire length as Steve sprawled on his back and Tony covered the top of him. They were both watching a movie- some daytime bullshit that was only there to offer Tony some distraction so that he wouldn’t get up and start wandering around- but the rest of the team could tell, even from their point over at the other side of the open plan room in the kitchen, that they were too wrapped up in one another to really focus on what was happening. Tony had been caught sick with the flu a few days ago and pretty much bedridden ever since, but trying to keep him resting had proved a challenge. Of course though, Steve had stepped up to it willingly: offering to movie marathon with him, keeping him in bed with strategic cuddling, and generally mother-henning Tony into staying still for a little while so that he could get better.

And now he’d commandeered the communal living room in order to coerce Tony into watching _Over the Hedge,_ of all things. Seriously. How Steve ever managed to get Tony to sit down and willingly do that was still a mystery to all the rest of them.

“You know, ask me a year ago whether this could ever in a million years happen and I would’a laughed in your face,” Clint said as he looked over his shoulder toward the two of them, “remember when they used to hate eachother? I miss that.”

Bruce smacked him over the head half-heartedly. “No you don’t,” he corrected, “that was way way worse. This is… romantic, I guess.”

“Romantic like when you see your parents making out and part of you is like ‘hey, cute,’ and the other part is yelling ‘gross gross gross gross gross’,” Natasha added.

Clint just huffed, shaking his head and then pulling a face. “I wish I could love someone that hard and not just get bored,” he said somewhat wistfully, “before Steve came along, Tony used to be unattainable. He wasn’t…” Another jerky hand-wave in their direction, “-this. Touchy feely and stuff. I saw him with Pepper. He loved her, sure, but he acted a lot more reserved. These two are just like fucking teenagers all over again. It's insufferable.”

Thor hummed, taking a sip of his beer and then turning to the others. “It’s because Steve feels like he has to hold onto what is important to him now, in case he loses it again. Better to love hard while you can than to keep your love reserved and risk having it taken away from you before you are able to give it all away.”

The others all paused, looking at him in surprise. Thor tended to come out with the most profound things when everyone least expected it, and then acted like it was just another passing comment that held no gravity. They'd sort of gotten used to it, but still, sometimes it took them all by surprise.

Natasha nodded slowly, shrugging her shoulders. “He’s right, I think,” she agreed, “Steve’s always been quiet and stoic and stuff. I think, with Tony, this is just… him getting to be himself. Getting to show what he feels, truly. Touch is important to him- not just with Tony, either. He uses it to ground himself to all of us. I guess with Tony it’s just a different level of intimacy. And Tony can see that just as well as we can. I think he needs it just as much as Steve too, but maybe for different reasons.”

Everyone was silent, just looking over at the two of them as they lay with their eyes shut on the couch. Then Bruce coughed. “Emotions and stuff aside though, it’s still gross, right?”

There were strong voices of agreement all around, and they all laughed to each other as each of them spared a glance in Steve and Tony’s direction, watching as Tony curled tighter up into Steve’s chest like a cat. It was, admittedly, kind of cute- in a sappy and tragic way, of course.

“How long until we start to hear wedding bells, you think?” Thor asked as he stole a slice of chicken from Bruce’s frying pan. “Maybe once they actually marry each other, they’ll stop making out on every surface they can find and do what every other married couple do: nothing in public.”

“That’s… not how all marriages work, Thor,” Bruce said with a huff, “but if we are talking about Steve and Tony here? By the end of the year for sure,” Bruce said with a nod, and then looked enquiringly at Natasha as she laughed. “What?”

“End of the year?” She repeated incredulously, “God, I’d be surprised if they could make it to the end of the week. You can definitely tell that Tony is gearing up for something or another, and they already live together, so there’s not many other options except for pets and babies.”

“If they do get married though, maybe Thor is right- maybe it’ll be in our best interests as well as theirs,” Clint added, leaning forward and grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl- not because he was going to eat it, but just because he wanted something to fiddle with as he spoke, “they get the bonus of, like, happiness or whatever, and we’ll get to a) be awesome groomsmen and bridesmaids, and b) have the added bonus of maybe making them mellow out a little. I don’t know about any of you, but I’d like to stop walking into the kitchen and seeing them trying to pretend like they hadn’t just been fucking on the counter two seconds ago.”

Of course, they all knew that it absolutely would not work like that. If anything, the two of them would probably get even worse for a while in their post-marriage delight, but in all honesty, all of them knew that wasn’t the real reason they were suddenly thinking about Tony and Steve marrying. They were thinking about it because, constant PDA aside, the two of them made one another happier than anything and, contrary to popular belief, the rest of the Avengers did actually want them to remain that way.

Even if it meant having to deal with their stupid lovey-doveyness at 8am in the morning when no coffee had been made to help them deal with it. They supposed it was a sacrifice they had to make, for their friends’ happiness. Or whatever.

“Either way,” Bruce said after a pause, “it’s probably going to take Tony six more months just to pluck up the courage to approach the question at all. You know what he’s like- he’ll be too scared Steve’ll freak out to actually say anything.” When Natasha laughed at him again, he turned to her with an eyebrow raised. “ _What_? Stop laughing at me- I’m right and you know it.”

Natasha quirked her eyebrow. Sounded like a challenge. “Want to make a wager?” She asked, leaning forward on the table. “If I get them to marry eachother by the end of the week, you do my house-chores for the rest of the month.”

Bruce, foolishly, decided to accept her offer, shaking her hand in amusement. “Natasha, you’re good, but I don’t think you know Tony as well as I do.”

She simply shrugged indifferently, beginning to stand up and slip off her stool. “True,” she told him, “but one thing that I _am_ very good at is tactical persuasion. Now watch and learn, Banner.”

They all did just that; watching her curiously as she wandered, deathly silent until she reached the two of them. Leaning down onto the coffee table, she grabbed Steve’s phone and then quickly typed in his password while he napped peacefully in front of her. Bruce looked confused, but Clint seemed to catch on fairly quickly and he grinned in enjoyment.

A few seconds later she put the phone back down, face up and still turned on, then walked back over to the rest of the team, who were still watching her curiously. “Thor, may I borrow your hair-tie?” She asked politely, holding her palm up to him. The God complied, and smoothly she stretched it taught between her two fingers, firing it over to the pair and then watching in satisfaction as it hit Tony in the nose. He frowned, eyes fluttering open as he sat up a little. While the rest of the team watched on conspicuously, Tony just focused on the bright light of Steve’s phone immediately in front of him.

Natasha smiled. “Bingo.”

It dawned on Bruce then, and his eyebrows went up to his hairline. “You didn’t.”

“Mm hmm.”

“I’m confused,” Thor said, turning to them, “what have you put on Steve’s phone?”

Natasha leaned back and inspected her nails. “Just a website for engagement rings, that’s all,” she told him easily, continuing to watch Tony as he simply stared down in shock at the screen on the table. “Now Tony will see that Steve has been searching, realise that his own proposal isn’t unwanted, and then we just wait for him to come to his own conclusion.”

Thor too, raised his eyebrows as he gasped in understanding. “Wow.”

Natasha simply smiled, twisting around in her chair and turning her back to the two of them. “All we have to do is wait a few days for it to really sink in for Tony-“

“-Wait, hold on, he’s moving,” Thor said, hand settling on Natasha’s shoulder and turning her back around. She paused, looking at him in confusion as he stumbled off the couch, heading to the stairs with a look of determination on his face. Steve, sensing the movement, woke up too, and he called out Tony’s name as he walked off but received no reply from the other man, which was… a little worrying, admittedly. After debating for another few beats, Steve decided to follow him out, and in less than five seconds both of them had disappeared up the stairwell.

The rest of the team looked at one another in surprise as silence filled up the air. “Well,” Bruce said, pushing his glasses up onto his nose, “that either went really well or really _really_ badly.”

“Shall we evacuate?” Clint asked, looking between them all, “I think we should evacuate. Tony gets scary when he’s mad and if we just ruined his relationship, then I’m guessing he’s not going to be in a very good mood.”

“We haven’t ruined his relationship,” Natasha informed them with a roll of her eyes, standing up once more and starting to follow in their tracks. She turned a few moments later when she realised no one was following. “Well?” She asked, “are you coming to listen or what?”

Sensing that a mature voice was probably needed to decide whether they should, all remaining eyes turned to Bruce. He looked around, flapping his hands. “This is probably a huge violation of privacy,” he told them weakly, but was already stepping forward.

Of course he was. Ask anyone who knew him and you’d get the same answer; Bruce Banner was a complete slut for gossip and drama of any kind.

Natasha smiled, turning tail and running over to the stairs with Thor, Bruce and Clint hot on her heels as they made their way to Tony’s room where the two other men had undoubtedly stopped in.

And that was how the four of them ended up with their ears all pressed up to the door of Tony’s bedroom, Clint fiddling with his hearing aids in order to get a better sound, Natasha getting top spot over the lock where the most sound could get through, and Thor just doing it because everyone else was, and not because he actually needed it to hear (he _was_ a God, after all).

“-and you make me happier than anyone, Steve, okay, and… God, this is a mess, fuck, I knew I should have waited for a better moment-“

“-no, hey, no,” Steve laughed wetly, and they all looked at one another on the other side of the door. It sounded like Steve was getting choked up. “Keep going. I’m liking where it’s headed so far.”

Tony’s nervous laughter rung out dully through the wood, and Natasha put her thumbs up. Good signs, good signs. “Okay,” he muttered a few more things that were incomprehensible and then paused, seeming to take a deep breath. “Steve,” he began, and then stopped again, laughing once more, “Oh fuck, I think I’m going to have a coughing fit.”

And then he, unsurprisingly, stopped to have a coughing fit.

More laughter, and then footsteps headed toward the door. Immediately, all of them retreated around the corner like scared animals- but Steve was only headed for the bathroom, it seemed, because Thor heard the faucet turn on through the wall and then quickly informed the rest of the team. They went back into position.

“Okay, again,” Tony said once his throat had cleared, “uh, so I’ve been holding onto this thing for quite a while now, but I guess I was just trying to… wait for the right moment?”

“ _I knew it,”_ Natasha whispered triumphantly, and then got shushed by Bruce and Clint as they pressed closer against the door.

“Anyway,” Tony said, as if carrying on from Natasha’s interruption, “I- uh- well…. There’s never going to be a right time, is there? We’re Avengers. There’s always _something_ going wrong. So I might as well just. Yeah.” Another pause, and all of them could guess what was happening now- were they to burst in right then, they would undoubtedly see Tony crouching on one knee, looking both absolutely terrified and totally enamoured all at the same time as he held the ring up to the man who he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off for a good year and a half now.

“Steve,” he said softly, “will you marry me?”

Thor, Bruce, Nat and Clint all held their breaths in trepidation, despite the fact that of course, they knew what the answer was going to be. As if Steve would ever say anything else.

_“Yes.”_

“YES!” Natasha whooped in triumph, turning to Bruce and pointing a finger, “I win! And I didn’t split up their relationship like you said either! I knew I was fucking awesome, all of you shut the fuck up and never make me doubt myself again.”

On the other side of the door, there was silence. And then a few moments later, two synchronised “What the fuck?” ‘s yelled out from inside Tony’s room. The whole team froze, realizing there was no way that the two men hadn’t heard Natasha’s yell of victory, and Bruce just sighed in defeat then took off his glasses to clean them half-heartedly. He was on a team full of children- of _course_ the greatest spy in the world would give herself away by gloating to the rest of her friends.

The door was pulled open, and Tony’s unimpressed face looked back at them all. “What are you doing?” He asked, while Steve hovered over his shoulder and then cocked his head at the bunch of them curiously. Then a small, knowing smile began to form on his face, and he settled his hand against Tony’s shoulder placatingly.

“I think they were just here to watch the show,” he told Tony, before looking over at them with a head-shake of despair, “You guys really are the most meddling bunch of fucks I’ve ever met, you know that right?”

Clint just threw up his hands, pushing forward and then embracing the two of them in a flourishing hug. “Anyway, anyway, let’s not focus on us,” he said hurriedly, “you’re married! Yay!”

Unable to help themselves, Tony and Steve both looked at one another and laughed euphorically as they hugged Clint back. “Yeah,” Tony said, happiness positively dripping off his tone, “yeah we are.”

There were another few moments where the rest of the team lingered on the sidelines- but then Thor also lurched forward, taking Steve, Tony, and Clint and then wrapping his arms around the lot of them. “This is so wonderful!”

Clint, Bruce, and Nat all followed shortly after, until the whole team was crushed together under Tony’s doorway in a tight group-hug with Steve and Tony in the middle, laughing their asses off. Later, the team was probably going to get yelled at for meddling in Steve and Tony’s relationship affairs, but for now it seemed that the two men were just too happy to care. Which was nice. They deserved that.

“Ew!” Clint said suddenly, pushing back against the hug and trying to wriggle away, “God, can you guys go three seconds without doing something gross? I thought we were celebrating as a group!” He turned to the others and then pointed upward, where Steve and Tony had, of course, began to kiss passionately in the centre of the hug. “You’re married now, you gotta show some self respect!”

Tony broke off, looking at him curiously. “Oh, so you think now we’re engaged we’re gonna be toning this down?” He asked in amusement, throwing a quick glance to Steve.

In response, the blond man chuckled and then leaned down, hoisting Tony up by the butt and then hugging him closer as they kissed once more. That was probably answer enough for the team, who quickly disbanded their hug and then backed out of the room, pulling faces as Steve and Tony got more and more… enthusiastic.

“Okay, we’re gonna go now,” Bruce said with a cough, and then nodded when he was completely ignored by Steve, who instead started walking him and Tony over to the bed, “right everyone, let’s leave before this gets weird.”

Steve placed Tony down on the bed and then stood up, turning back and hurrying quickly to the door. Natasha looked at him with a smirk as Steve blushed, cheeks rosy with delight and hair already messy from where Tony had just had his hands in it.

“Call if the universe is ending,” he said bluntly, before taking the door and then shutting it in all their faces.

The four remaining members of the Avengers stood in the hallway awkwardly- and then all once decided to make a hasty retreat, heading to the elevator and trying not to think about how Tony and Steve were going to be sealing _that_ particular deal. “I’m guessing we won’t be seeing them for a few days,” Thor said, glancing back.

“God, they’re going to be even more gross and in love now,” Clint whined as he pressed the button to head back down to the common floor, “I feel like we’ve made a terrible mistake.”

The rest of the team nodded mournfully, and Bruce sighed. “They’re going to be insufferable.”

“Disgustingly loving,” Natasha added.

“Horribly obnoxious with their affections,” Thor supplied.

Clint pulled a face, looking to the rest of them. _“Happy,”_ he declared in horror.

They all pretended to gag, but each one of them gave their real emotions away with the smiles and laughter that quickly followed it. Because yeah- Steve and Tony were shameless with their affections, and no amount of teasing from the team seemed to be able to get them to quit it- but maybe, secretly, they were glad about that. There was something endearing in the wholesome way in which they quite clearly adored eachother. Even if it _was_ gross to see at seven in the morning.

And now they were going to get married, which essentially promised that that behaviour would continue for the rest of their lives.

 _Great,_ Clint thought- although surprisingly, he actually meant it.


End file.
